


Heroes of Eternity

by ArtemisPendragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Affalon | Avalon, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Clint and Gwaine are Chaos Children, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Gen, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Honestly Protective Everyone, Hurt Peter Parker, Immortal Merlin (Merlin), Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki Lives (Marvel), M/M, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Third Person, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Protective Avengers, Protective Tony Stark, Reincarnation, Resurrection, Sir Leon the Long-Suffering (Merlin), Tony regrets everything, Whump, lots of exposition, no beta we die like knights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25984930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisPendragon/pseuds/ArtemisPendragon
Summary: When the Avengers are forced to ask for help to defeat the universe's newest threat, Tony never expects King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table to show up at his door. He also never expects his intern-turned-almost-son to go missing within the same week. As the Avengers scramble to both find Peter and deal with the looming threat of Thanos, the Knights realize that one of their friends is also missing: Merlin. Could the two disappearances be connected? And what does any of it have to do with the return of King Arthur?[Updates whenever possible.]
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), May Parker (Spider-Man) & Peter Parker, Merlin (Merlin) & Peter Parker, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 60
Kudos: 196





	1. Oh, What Now?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, and it of course has to be one of my most ambitious ideas ever. Has it been ages since I watched Merlin? Yes. Do I remember the exact plot of every MCU movie? No. But that won't stop me! :D Enjoy!

Merlin was jolted out of an uneasy sleep by the harsh blare of the Facility’s alarm. His eyes flew open, and in the split second between complete awareness and instinctive response, he stiffened and braced himself. His magic raced to protect him, surging to his fingertips to be used against whatever threat had awoken him. It was blocked, however, by the icy bite of the cold iron shackles that bound his wrists and arms. As it tried to surface, the runes on the cuffs glowed a harsh white, beating the magic back into the depths of Merlin’s soul. The gold immediately bled out of his eyes, and he gasped in pain, his back arching off the thin mattress inside his cell. The cuffs tightened around his red-raw wrists, sending blinding agony through every inch of his body until, finally, his magic was contained once more.

It took less than five seconds for all this to happen. Merlin lay panting on his bed, tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes as tremors continued to wrack his body. The speaker above his cell door crackled to life. “Subject 0001, stand and face the door,” a harsh voice barked at him. The warlock groaned softly and pushed himself upwards, first sitting up, then standing, all with his arms bound to his chest in a mockery of a straightjacket. 

The door swung open inwards, and a stony-faced guard stepped inside. Merlin, in his pained state, thought he recognized her from the usual rotation, but couldn’t be sure. It didn’t help that they all wore the same black uniform. He couldn’t even see any sort of jewelry on any of them. And after so long down here in his cell, the faces of the guards who had come and gone over the years had blurred together. Still, he bowed his head in submission to the guard, standing as still as he was able. She eyed him carefully as she set the metal tray on the ground by his bed and backed out. 

As soon as the door swung shut, Merlin kneeled before the tray and used his chin to free the bounty underneath the cover. It was the usual meal: a bowl of plain oatmeal, a hunk of dry bread, and a cup of water. For him, it was as precious as feast-food. He ate quickly, not sure when the guard would return to take the tray away. The oatmeal was lukewarm and thin, but it soothed the ache in his stomach caused by constant hunger. He took huge bites out of the bread, eating as fast as his weakened state would allow. It was tasteless and half-stale, but combined with small sips of water, he finished it without issue. 

Once the tray was empty, he sat back on his feet and sighed. He knew the feeling of fullness wouldn’t last very long, so he tried to enjoy it while he could. Once, hundreds of years ago, he could still remember the taste of other foods, and he had spent long stretches of time hoping they still existed. He knew stew had to still be around, as did fruits and meats, but did they still taste the same as they did back when he was young? Now, though, he wouldn’t be able to say, even if he was given any. Like most of his life, those memories had been lost to time and grief and the endless monotony of the Facility. 

Each day was the same. Wake up, get zapped by cold iron, eat, meditate, get taken for testing, get medical attention if needed, get zapped some more, meditate again, lights-out, sleep, and repeat. The schedule had changed slightly over the years, but it remained essentially the same. Sometimes new  ~~ prisoners ~~ subjects were brought in for similar testing, but they never lasted very long, and Merlin had long ago given up on trying to make friends with them. Even if they didn’t die via experimentation, they would eventually grow old and turn to dust, leaving the black-haired young man alone once more.

So it was a surprise indeed when, instead of getting dragged out the door and down the hall for testing, he was dragged out the door and down the hall to the warden’s office. In all his time as Subject 0001, he had met very few of the men and women in charge. Most of them couldn’t be bothered to meet him, but some were curious enough to “invite” him to their office for a chat. As a pair of brutish guards tossed him onto the carpeted floor in front of the latest warden, Merlin hoped that this one would be a bit kinder than the last, who had gotten excitement out of trying to find new ways to torment him. Even the memories were painful.

He struggled to his knees, keeping his head bowed before the person in front of him. All he could see were the expensive leather loafers on their feet, polished to a shine so bright it hurt his eyes. He didn’t dare flinch or look away, though. The last time he did that in front of a warden, he went without food for two weeks. 

“So, this is him?” a deep, even voice rumbled from above. An American, Merlin thought, if the accent was anything to go by. “Hmph. To be honest, gentlemen, I was expecting something… more. He doesn’t look like much. His file goes into great detail, especially about his abilities.” Merlin internally winced. That had been the first thing they tested when he arrived. The second was how he responded to the cold iron cuffs that were weighing down his upper body. “But perhaps the legends raised my expectations.” A large, rough finger tipped Merlin’s chin up, forcing him to look the new warden in the eyes. 

The man was tall and freckled, his skin slightly tan and covered in thick patches of ginger hair on his arms and cheeks. He wore black trousers to go with his shoes, and his button-down shirt was pale blue, bringing out the bright green of his eyes. The man smiled coldly down at him. “Merlin, yes? My name is Jacob Collins. I’ll be overseeing your stay here for the foreseeable future. I understand you’ve been here for quite some time. Is that true?” Merlin inclined his head, nodding to Jacob, making him smile again. It was a question that the warden already knew the answer to, but Merlin had learned better than to leave such a thing unanswered. “Excellent. Perhaps you’d be willing to help our newest resident acclimate to the Facility. He’s putting up quite a fuss, you see, and isn’t responding well to usual methods of discipline.” Merlin shuddered at the dark expression that passed over the warden’s face. “We don’t want to end his stay early, so that’s where you come in. Convince him to cooperate. Make him see that resisting is only going to harm him in the long run. Can you do that for me?” 

Merlin nodded again as fear churned in his gut. He could remember being in the same position as this unknown man, many years ago, before the cuffs and experimentation bled the insolence from his bones. He hoped he could spare this new subject the pain that he himself went through to get him to comply. 

Jacob smiled one last time and let Merlin’s head fall back down to his chest. “Excellent,” he purred. “You’re going to be brought to a new cell that you’ll share with him. I do hope you can talk some sense into the young man. His enhancements are promising, and I’d hate for them to go to waste simply because he refuses to be cooperative. And don’t worry about a time limit,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m not an unreasonable man. So long as he starts to comply, even if it’s slowly, then I’ll know I made the right choice in trusting you with this mission.” Jacob stared hard at him, and the warlock shivered at the intensity of it. When he spoke next, his voice cut through the air, weighed down by the seriousness of his words. “Don’t break my trust, Merlin. I hope you won’t have to find out why.” He gestured at the guards by the door, who grabbed Merlin by his upper arms and dragged him out of the office. The last thing he saw was Jacob’s cold gaze as the door slammed shut behind them.

Instead of taking a left out the door and going back to his usual cell, the guards turned right and began to ascend a set of metal stairs, making Merlin’s shins slam against the edges of each step. He bit back grunts of pain, knowing his legs would be covered in bruises come tomorrow morning. Once they reached the top of the stairs, the guards took him down a maze of hallways, past more doors than he could count. Sometimes he glimpsed a lab or medical bay through the windows that were occasionally set into the walls, but they passed by too quickly for him to get a proper look. 

After what felt like hours, but was probably only fifteen minutes, the guards came to a stop outside a cell. Merlin could immediately tell it was newer than his; the door was made of sleek, thick metal, and the window into the cell was a single pane of reinforced glass. One of the guards pressed a button on the panel next to the door. “Subject 2916, step away from the door with your hands behind your back,” he ordered. After a moment, he swiped a keycard through a slot, and the door unlocked with a heavy  _ thunk _ . The first guard pushed it open while the second dragged Merlin inside.

As with the warden’s office, he was thrown unceremoniously onto the floor. With his arms shackled to his chest, it took him a few tries to sit up on his knees. By the time he could, the guards had already left and shut the door behind them. Merlin was getting really tired of being manhandled. 

“Hello?” 

Merlin jumped, then remembered. ‘ _ Right. The new prisoner. Poor bloke.’ _ He looked around, tensing slightly, but he saw nobody. He struggled to his feet and slowly turned in a circle. He still didn’t see anyone. It sent a shiver racing down his back. Invisibility? Is that a thing now? He hoped not. It would make his job a lot harder. 

“Er… 2916?” he asked, not knowing what else to call the man. “The warden assigned me to be your cellmate.” His voice was rough from disuse, but luckily it was smoothing with every breath. “I’m 0001, but my mum named me Merlin. You can call me that, if you like. What can I call you?”

Suddenly, a dark shape dropped down from the ceiling and landed directly in front of him. He stumbled back and nearly lost his footing, unable to use his arms to steady himself. A hand shot out and grabbed the chains between his wrists, then gently pulled him forwards so he didn’t topple over. He exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping in relief. Before Merlin could thank him, though, the stranger stepped into the light. 

Young. Gods, the man - the  _ kid _ \- was so young. He looked the same age as Merlin was when he first arrived in Camelot all those years ago. A tuft of soft brown curls framed his face. Large brown eyes stared back at him, and his pale skin looked even paler in the harsh lighting. He had the usual lanky build of a teenager, but with a surprising amount of lean muscles on his upper body. There were cuffs on his wrists, too, but they bore no runes, and they looked far more modern than Merlin’s own. Several semi-healed gashes and bruises littered his skin, including a nasty-looking black eye that had made his left eye swell almost completely shut. Despite this, there was a determined fire in his gaze that made Merlin’s heart both ache and leap. It was clear that he would fight compliance until his last breath. 

“My name’s Peter.”


	2. Lethiferous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lethiferous (adj.): Deadly; bringing death or destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh... Whoops? I'm sorry to those who have been waiting over a month for this fic to continue. I promise, I have no plans to abandon it. Hopefully now that the first establishing chapters have been written, the fic will be updated more frequently as we get into the more exciting bits. For those who have waited since the fic was posted, thank you for sticking around. I love you guys. <3

_ 11 Days Earlier… _

Tony was reluctant to admit it, and he’d certainly never do so out loud, but the Wakandan planes parked at the Compound put the quinjets and even the helicarriers to shame. They were straight out of science fiction, made of sleek, straight lines, minimalist design, reinforced with vibranium (obviously), and could out-maneuver even the best of Tony’s exotic cars. 

And they had landed with barely a whisper, too, dammit. He was glad that he’d decided to wear sunglasses for this meeting. They helped hide the way he glanced enviously at the half-dozen jets on his front lawn. He could feel Nat’s knowing stare from where she stood next to Clint, though, and grit his teeth. Of course the super-spy could read him like a book. He knew that if he turned to look at her, she would be wearing that little smirk that she wore when she figured something out about the team. She wore it the most often around Tony. 

The doors of the jet closest to the Compound’s main building slid open as a ramp touched down onto the grass. Tony straightened his back and inhaled. Something like anxiety bubbled in his gut, but a gentle squeeze on the shoulder from Rhodey helped soothe his nerves. He unclenched his fists (when had he clenched them?) and let out a deep breath. 

The smile he plastered onto his face as T’Challa, Okoye, Shuri, and the rest of the royal entourage emerged from the jet was mostly genuine. Tony respected the young king, and if their current meeting was under different circumstances, he would be relishing the chance to work with him, Shuri, and their tech. The somber expressions on their faces, however, reminded him why they were here in the first place. 

Tony stepped forward, meeting T’Challa halfway across the small strip of grass while the rest of the team stayed behind to observe. The two men briefly shook hands, and Tony saluted the others the way Bucky had taught the rest of the Avengers to. They returned the gesture politely, if not a bit stiffly. He was sure they were as focused on the issue at hand as much as he was. 

“Now that the pleasantries are over with,” Tony began coolly, unable to keep a bit of snark from seeping into his voice, “Let me formally welcome you to the Avengers Compound. You’ve met most of the team before, Your Majesty,” he said with a bit of a wince, recalling a certain airport fight in Germany. “We’ll do the rest of the introductions once the debrief is over and you and your people are settled into your rooms.”

T’Challa nodded in silent acquiescence. He saw Shuri staring at the assembled Avengers, and he subtly dug one of his elbows into her side as they followed Tony towards the building. “Have you no shame, sister?” he teased, keeping his voice low. She snickered in response. 

“Of course not, brother. Stark’s tech is allegedly the best in the world, outside of Wakanda. I am not going to waste the opportunity to see just how primitive it is.” Okoye stifled a snort, disguising it as simply clearing her throat when Tony looked back in confusion. When he turned back around, Shuri continued. “Plus, I hear he has an intern who is my age. I want to meet them so when I get bored, I can ditch you and go to the labs with them.” 

“Shuri…” T’Challa sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. “Please do not tell me you smuggled vibranium out of the country for lab experiments with this intern.”

“Fine. I will not tell you, then,” she replied, grinning. T’Challa just sighed again. 

The Wakandan party soon reached the team of heroes, and after a few brief greetings, they made their way into the Compound as a single group. Aside from the sound of Shuri typing away on a holo-screen projected by her Kimoyo beads, there was almost no noise that would indicate a procession of such size was there at all. 

Steve and T’Challa had their heads bent together, discussing something in low voices. Tony couldn’t help but glance over at them every so often. It rankled him that the king had agreed to rehabilitate Bucky. They hadn’t come to blows in the Siberian bunker, but it had been a very close thing. If not for Steve’s reminder of how Loki had controlled Clint in a hauntingly-similar manner back during the Battle of Manhattan, Tony knew things would have gone down a lot worse. 

He wasn’t completely unsympathetic towards Bucky’s suffering, but his heart was reluctant to let go of the fact that it was Bucky’s hands that killed his parents. It ate at him more ferociously than he would like to admit. 

He tried to not think about it.

After a quick ride up the elevators, the group found themselves settled around the spacious circular table in the main conference room. Shuri stood in the back, looking far more serious now as she waited to start taking notes on anything she deemed important enough to remember. Tony had a feeling that she would be taking a  _ lot _ of notes.

“All settled? Everyone got their coffee and game faces?” Tony asked from his chair, his posture relaxed but his face pinched with tension. There was a smattering of affirmative murmurs from the rest of the heroes in the room. “Good. Now, I know we haven’t met like this in a while,” he began. “Things have been… tense since Germany. I wouldn’t force us all to be in the same room together if we didn’t have to be. I would have done this over video calls, but we all know Ross would have had his underlings hack the system and eavesdrop on us. That idiot can’t help breaking laws so long as he benefits,” the man growled.

“Tony,” Nat interrupted, leaning forwards in her seat. “Focus. Why are we here?” There was a hint of amusement in her voice from his rambling, but it was hidden under layers upon layers of analytical, no-nonsense concern. 

“Right. Yes. Two days ago, a message from deep space reached Earth. FRIDAY was able to intercept it before the government even knew it was there.” He blew out a deep, shaky breath. “Fri, play it back for us.” The speakers flicked on, and a panicked voice filled the room.

"This is the Asgardian refugee vessel Statesman! We are under assault! I repeat, we are under assault! The engines are dead, life support failing. Requesting aid from any vessel within range. We are 22 jump points out of Asgard. Our crew is made up of Asgardian families. We have very few soldiers here. This is not a warcraft. I repeat, this is not a warcraft! This is the Asgardian refugee vessel-”

Tony waved a hand, and the message cut off. Everyone in the room looked stricken, including those who had never met Thor. Steve and Clint were the most horrified, and even Nat couldn’t completely hide the way her fingers dug into the armrests of her chair. Wanda, who was standing in the back corner with Vision, had tears streaming down her cheeks and a hand covering her mouth. 

Tony cleared his throat, unable to look up and see the devastation in the eyes of his friends. “Yesterday, I was visited by a Doctor Stephen Strange. He had another message for us.” He exhaled, still rattled by everything that had gone down in the past 48 hours. “He said that he had a visitor crash-land in his home, around the same time that the distress call was first sent out. The guy’s human, and was hurt pretty badly, but he managed to explain to Strange that he’d been on board the Statesman when it was attacked. He was sent here through an emergency bifrost transport to try to warn us about what’s coming.” 

Tony broke off, letting the information settle. He finally looked up at the team - his friends - and saw questions in their eyes. He held up a hand, hoping they would hold off on asking him for answers. “I don’t know the whole story, and the guy who crashed into Strange’s home was pretty out of it when he first landed. But when he woke up this morning, he was much more coherent, luckily for us. He got caught up on what he’s missed on Earth while he was with the Asgardians. I asked Strange to bring him here. Just… Go easy on him, yeah?”

The others nodded, their faces a mix of confusion, curiosity, solemnity, and anxiety. “Fri? Tell Doc and his friend that they can come in,” he said. The team all turned to face the frosted-glass door. Some were shooting glances at each other, trying to figure out who the visitor could be. Even Tony didn’t know who it was. 

A few moments later, the door opened, and Bruce Banner stepped inside. 


	3. Brontide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brontide (n): the low rumble of distant thunder

There was a moment of absolute stillness as the Avengers stared at the figure in the doorway, unable to believe what they were seeing. After two years of absence, two years of having absolutely no idea where he was or even if he was still alive, it took a beat for them to realize that it really  _ was  _ Bruce standing there. He was a bit thinner than the last time they had seen him, and his skin was littered with fresh cuts and bruises, but it was undoubtedly him. 

“Hey, guys,” he said with a nervous smile, curling his fidgety fingers into the cuffs of his borrowed sweater. He’d been surprised when Doctor Strange had given him such a simple and comfortable piece of clothing earlier that day, rather than something more like the flashy robes and cloak that the sorcerer seemed to favor. The taller man had smiled sympathetically and said something about soft clothes being able to soothe any sort of ache. Now, standing in front of all but one of his oldest friends, Bruce could understand the wisdom behind those words as he yearned to reach out and hug them all, to prove to himself that they were really there, that  _ he _ was really there.

It seemed like Tony had the same idea. He was the first to recover from his shock, and the legs of his chair scraped against the floor as he stood up and strode over to Bruce’s side. He stopped just a few feet away, uncaring of the fact that the rest of their friends were now staring at the both of them. He reached out to wrap his fingers around the other man’s wrist, but froze with his hand suspended between their bodies. “Bruce?” he whispered hesitantly, his voice tremulous with disbelief. His wide brown eyes took in his friend’s face, unable to ignore the shadows under his eyes or the butterfly bandage across his brow. 

Bruce smiled again, gently grasping Tony’s half-offered arm. “It’s been a while. Mind helping me catch up?” 

Letting out a sound that could have been either a laugh or a sob, Tony surged forwards and enveloped him in a hug. 

The tension in the room finally snapped, and a thousand conversations broke out all at once. Clint, Natasha, and Steve joined Tony and Bruce at the front of the room, each of them welcoming the latter back in their own way. Steve grinned and gave him a (gentle) clap on the shoulder. Clint’s welcome was a bit more rambunctious - like Tony, he gave the man a full-body hug, and he began to both sign and speak at a rapid pace, trying to cram as much information about the past two years as possible into only a handful of seconds. Bruce could only stare and try to process everything that was being thrown at him. 

Luckily, Natasha was an expert Clint-wrangler, and she shoved the man aside with a fond eye roll. “Let him breathe, Barton,” she said with mock exasperation. Clint squawked, affronted, making Bruce chuckle warmly. Then Nat turned her attention to him and gave him one of her rare, soft smiles. “Hope you didn’t have too much fun without us, Banner. How did you manage to get tangled up in Asgardian stuff?” she asked. Although her face was mostly neutral, save for her tiny smile, there was concern shining deep in her eyes, made all the more prominent by the slightest crease of her brow. 

Bruce swallowed with a shrug, his hands now stuffed into the pockets of his borrowed jeans. “It’s a long story, Nat. I’d rather tell it only once, so make sure you don’t fall asleep in the meeting later, yeah?” he teased. 

She knew he was deflecting by the tense line of his shoulders and the way he seemed to curl into himself, as if to shield his own body from the memories. There was also a haunted, far-away look in his eyes when he spoke of it. She’d seen men and women lose themselves to trauma memories too many times to count, herself included, so she knew better than to push him. “Here’s hoping you’ve become a better storyteller in the last two years,” she teased back. She could see the flash of gratefulness in Bruce’s face. 

The man chuckled again. “I wish I could tell them as well as Doctor Strange. Every story’s impressive when you’ve got magic to make your visuals for you,” he answered, making Nat’s eyes widen slightly in curiosity. 

“That does sound handy,” she admitted. “It’d make the mission briefings a lot more bearable. Even Tony would stay awake for them then.”

The two shared a quiet laugh at their friend’s expense. Luckily, said friend was too busy talking tech with Shuri to notice. There was a lull in their conversation, but the silence was hardly awkward. They simply stood there, taking in the other’s presence, constantly reassuring themselves that the other was in their company. Despite the situation at large, Bruce felt himself relaxing. If anyone was going to find a solution to Thanos and the Infinity Stones, he would bet all his PhDs on Natasha being the one to do so.

* * *

After the briefing led by Bruce and Strange, most of the heroes decided to head to the living quarters to digest what they had just been told. Steve, Sam, and Nat were off to the gym to work through their emotions. Scott and Clint had retreated to the kitchens to raid the pantries and swap Dad Stories. Vision and Wanda were in their shared apartment, most likely having a serious conversation, if their faces while they were leaving were any indication. Shuri had slipped away immediately after the briefing ended. Okoye assured T’Challa that she’d keep an eye on his sister, who was most likely blowing something up in one of Tony’s labs. The statement did little to ease the king’s worries. Rhodey was the last to leave, citing his duties back in DC. Only Bruce, Tony, Strange, and T’Challa remained in the common room. 

Tony was already elbow-deep in digital research, trying to get his hands on anything related to the so-called Infinity Stones. There were six of them, supposedly, and there was a purple madman hunting them down for some cliché, nefarious purpose. Honestly, Tony would have rolled his eyes at it all, if the situation wasn’t so dire. 

Strange had mentioned that, as the keeper of the Time Stone, he essentially had a giant target painted on his back. The Stones emitted radiation not unlike the gamma particles that had created the Hulk, so it would be easy to track them down if one knew the right signature. So far, they’d been able to identify the Space Stone and the Mind Stone, thanks to the Tesseract and the Scepter respectively, which Loki had used during the Battle of Manhattan. The Space Stone was in the wind (Bruce assumed Loki had stolen it from Asgard, as he was wont to do, before Surtur destroyed the planet), but the Mind Stone was safely powering Vision. Although he didn’t completely trust the android after the incident that left Rhodey paralyzed, Tony knew that Vision understood the importance of the sparkly gem in his forehead and would protect it to the death. 

That meant two out of six Infinity Stones were in their possession. Not nearly enough to overpower the Mad Titan, but maybe it would be enough to give them a fighting chance, especially since he no longer had the element of surprise on his side. They had time to plan, to coordinate defenses and attack strategies. Fury, who’d turned up at the last minute to the briefing, had even said he was going to call on one of his old friends to help them. 

There was a seed of hope in Tony’s chest, slowly taking root as he mulled over what they knew so far. Yes, there were still three more Infinity Stones to find (and hopefully nab before Thanos found them), but the odds were not all against them. A sort of cautious optimism was blooming alongside the hope, as tentative and delicate as frost in spring. 

Maybe, just maybe, they could win this. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A hopeful ending? Don't get used to it, kids!


	4. Demersal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demersal (adj): that which lives at the bottom of a body of water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update is a week late! Classes have been kicking my butt lately, so I haven't had the time to sit down and write very often. Midterms tend to be busy like that. But now that they're out of the way, I hope to get back on to my every-Wednesday-ish schedule. 
> 
> Also, I'm working on creating a visual timeline for you all, in order to keep track of events, since the portions with the Avengers are happening BEFORE Merlin meets Peter. I'll hopefully have a version uploaded for the next chapter, and I'll keep adding to it with each update.

Everyone seemed to be in slightly better spirits the next morning. Steve and Sam had gone on their usual run at the asscrack of dawn and came back covered in sweat and mud, smelling of forest and wet earth. A low mist hung over the grounds and covered everything in a layer of dew. Tony admired it all from the comfort of the communal kitchen, his third cup of coffee clutched like a lifeline in his hands. 

He’d been able to snag a few hours of sleep last night, which was admittedly more than usual, but he couldn’t manage to keep his brain shut down for long. He’d found himself pacing in the living room before the soldiers had even woken up, chugging coffee and dictating notes and research to Friday. He kept seeing flashes of colors against the back of his eyelids - the same six colors, over and over, endlessly reminding him of what was at stake if they lost. 

He could already feel the migraine forming. It was going to be one of those kinds of days, he just knew it. 

Soon the rest of the team trickled out of their rooms and into the kitchen. Clint put on another pot of coffee, and Tony had to stifle a snort at just how much like a bird’s nest the archer’s hair looked. He was truly doing his namesake proud. Nat, of course, looked flawless when she sauntered in, her hair styled in a sleek blonde bob with naught a strand out of place. She grabbed a whole ton of eggs from the fridge and a couple loafs of bread from the pantry, then tossed them on the biggest skillet they had in order to make French toast for everyone. Clint, in his coffee-deprived state, could only grunt in appreciation as the smell of breakfast began to fill the air. 

Wanda and Vision were next to arrive. Wanda grabbed her favorite mug from the cupboard and began to make herself some tea, taking care to leave enough water in the kettle for Bruce’s cup. She curled up on the couch in the adjoining living room with Vision pressed against her side. Despite being an android and thus not needing any rest, he leaned his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. She looked down at him with a soft look in her eyes, and Tony glanced away. Pepper was away at a conference in Tokyo, and he was missing her greatly. Seeing the two of them cuddling only made the ache in his chest worse.

The arrival of Rhodey, Bruce, and T’Challa quickly took his mind off his missing fiancee, though, as did the giant plates of breakfast that Nat and a now-caffeinated Clint were loading onto the kitchen island. There was a quiet but enthusiastic sound of approval from everyone as they filled their own, smaller plates, then settled into the various seats to tuck in. Steve and Sam were the last to arrive, but with Steve being the only present one of the group with the metabolism of a super-soldier, there was more than enough food for the hungry runners. 

Sam flopped down next to Steve, who had taken a seat near T’Challa. The two of them seemed to continue the discussion they were having yesterday. Tony watched as Steve, initially tense and anxious, slowly began to relax the more and more T’Challa answered his questions. Soon he was even smiling into his syrupy breakfast. Tony had seen that look on his friend’s face before. It wasn’t hard to figure out what they were talking about. 

“This spot taken?” asked a quietly hopeful voice, and Tony turned his head to find Bruce standing at the seat beside him at the breakfast bar. He gave his fellow scientist a smile. 

“It is now,” he said before polishing off the last of his coffee. Bruce chuckled as he set down his plate and cup of tea. Some things never changed, it seemed. 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them as Bruce ate and Tony stared out the floor-to-ceiling window closest to the pair. The latter kept the empty mug between his palms, warming them with the last of the heat from the coffee. Low murmurs and quiet conversations drifted towards them from other members of the team, but no one was really in the mood to talk about anything too serious this early in the morning. 

“Doctor Strange left last night,” Bruce began. “He’s got a lot of resources back at his base, and he said they’d probably have information on the Stones that we wouldn’t have otherwise. He says he’ll keep us in the loop, though.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sure Dumbledore and his house elf friends will find something useful,” he murmured as Bruce rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t think insulting him will make him work any faster, Tony,” he admonished gently, making the mechanic shrug. 

“Probably not, but it makes me feel better.” 

It was just after noon when Tony’s world was changed for the second time in under twenty-four hours. He thought he had locked the door to his lab, but the sudden appearance of Shuri peering over his shoulder and staring at a projection of calculations before flatly stating “wrong” made him doubt. Then again, maybe the teen had hacked her way in. From his conversations with T’Challa, Tony wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Jesus!” he yelped, dropping a Starkpad on his foot and nearly falling off his stool. He whirled around and came face-to-face with the grinning teen. A glare settled on his brow. 

“No, just me,” Shuri replied with a cackle. “But I can see where the confusion comes from.” 

“Is there anything I can help you with,  _ princess _ , aside from serving as some weird sort of entertainment?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

It was Shuri’s turn to glare at him. Ooh, okay, do  _ not _ call her that. “I was hoping your intern would be down here,” she admitted, the glare quickly disappearing. “I do not know much about them, and I wanted to know if they would like to see something actually impressive for once,” she said with a grin. 

Tony groaned and rubbed his temples. Ah,  _ there  _ was the migraine from this morning. “Fortunately for my sanity, Peter’s spending the week helping his friend move into his brother’s old room. For any other pair of teens, it wouldn’t take that long, but I have a feeling they’ll get distracted by random junk and forgotten toys more times than I can count.”

“Your intern is a teenager?” Shuri asked, pleasantly surprised. 

“Yeah. That’s the look Pepper gave me when I told her, too,” Tony said with a chuckle. “But the kid’s an absolute genius. He could easily be in college right now, like I was at his age, but he and his aunt want him to stay with his friends. He’s also one of the most genuinely nicest people I’ve ever met. He really wants to help people, even if it means going without.”

“Huh. I thought he would be more of a mini you,” Shuri said. Tony laughed at that. 

“Rhodey said the same thing. But it didn’t take long for him to see why I picked the kid. Especially since they met immediately after Peter blew up one of my old gauntlets while trying to improve its power efficiency. Giant bang, smoke everywhere, hair sticking up like something in a cartoon, apologizing a mile a minute. And there was Rhodey, standing in the doorway, laughing like a madman at both of us.” 

Shuri snorted. “I hope you were recording it. I would love to see if it is anything like the footage I have of pranking T’Challa.” 

Tony grinned. “I’ll see if I can have Friday pull it from the servers. Hey, Fri-”

“Boss,” the AI interrupted. “Apologies for interrupting, but there is an incoming live transmission from a ship called the Milano. They say it’s important, but not urgent.”

“Patch it through here,” Tony said, wheeling his chair towards the main holo-screen, Shuri close behind. The pale blue screen went fuzzy for a moment before the picture rendered. 

Tony blinked helplessly at what he was seeing - five, no, six individuals, crammed together in a fairly small ship. The one at the front looked fairly human, but he was the only one. There was a woman with green skin next to him, her hands on her hips and a permanent frown on her face. A tall, muscular bald man with reddish-grey skin and numerous scars stood at the back, his face blank. Then there were two of the oddest creatures Tony had ever seen standing at the front; one looked like a sentient tree, leaves and all, and the other was some sort of bipedal racoon. And, front and center, waving gleefully at the camera, was- 

“Thor!” Tony cried, grinning. 

“Stark!” the god boomed, making his companions wince. “Good, the transmission reached you! We were worried that something might have happened in my absence, but I see I was happily mistaken.”

“It’s good to see you too, buddy,” Tony said with a laugh. He looked off to the side. “Friday, can you tell the others to gather in the common room, then give them access to the call?”

“On it, boss.”

Tony nodded, then turned his attention back to Thor. “Gotta say, it’s been real quiet here without you. I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’re looking forward to having you back.”

“And I look forward to being on Midgard once more as well. With luck, we should arrive in just over one week. There are some things we must take care of first. I would not choose to delay our arrival if I could, but these tasks are sadly vital in our fight against the Mad Titan.”

Tony was about to say more, to ask about what happened to the refugees from Asgard, but the other half of the screen lit up, and the faces of the rest of the team filled the space. 

“My friends!” Thor boomed. The others in his ship rolled their eyes while those on Earth broke out in excited shouts, all talking over each other in an attempt to greet the god. Tony chuckled and silenced the feed, then turned to Shuri. 

“You should probably go make sure they’re not having too much fun without you upstairs,” he told her, and she grinned before racing off to cause a bit of chaos while the others were distracted. 

Tony watched her go, already wondering what kind of mischief she and Peter would get into together. Knowing the kinds of things Wakanda’s tech was capable of, he wouldn’t be surprised if the two of them ended up making real, functioning lightsabers at some point in the near future. God help him if they did.

The call was relatively brief, all things considered. Thor assured them that the surviving refugees were making their way to Earth in hopes of settling somewhere in Scandinavia. The death toll was thankfully much lower than it could have been, thanks in part to both Bruce and Loki (whose survival caused a temporary uproar among the human members of the call) being able to distract Thanos’ forces long enough to launch almost every escape pod left on the ship. 

Once the call ended, the team yet again dispersed (but not before Shuri hacked into the speakers of the living room and blared the Pink Panther theme at full volume, leading to T’Challa storming out of the room yelling for his sister as everyone else doubled over with laughter). Nat let Tony know that she would be in contact with the various world governments to prepare them for the arrival of the refugees, and to hopefully secure some land for them to settle in. The others went about their business as usual, although there was an undercurrent of excited energy in the air now. Once Thor arrived, it would be the first time in nearly two years that the original six Avengers were all together in one space; even those who had never even met the god of thunder were eager for his return. 

It was almost dusk by the time Tony emerged from his lab. Sam, Steve, and Nat were in the kitchen, playfully bickering over what to make for Bruce’s first dinner back. After listening in for a bit, Tony found himself siding with Steve on this one - it was hard to go wrong with good old spaghetti and meatballs, so long as there was garlic bread to go with it. 

The others were sprawled about in the living room, casually draped over various pieces of furniture like the heathens they were. Clint was even upside-down on one of the couches as he smack-talked Wanda, controllers in both their hands and a game of Mario Kart playing out on the main television screen. Tony watched as Wanda launched a well-targeted green shell at Clint’s Baby Peach, making the grown man squawk and fall into last place while Wanda’s Bowser took the lead. The archer threw a handful of popcorn at her, which was enveloped in her red magic and levitated lazily over to her mouth. Tony heard Clint mumble something like “cheater”, but he couldn’t be completely sure as, at the same time, Friday chimed in his ear. 

“Boss. There is a small group at the front gate asking to be let in. The leader says that they have information on Thanos that you might want to hear.”

Tony’s stomach churned, and all eyes fell on him. The atmosphere of the room changed immediately. Clint paused the game of Mario Kart and looked at him with trepidation in his eyes. The conversation in the kitchen cut off, and the trio emerged, looking serious despite wearing aprons plastered with cheesy sayings. Everyone else looked equally nervous. Tony inhaled deeply to steel himself. “Did the leader give his name?” he asked the AI.

“He did, Boss.”

“And? Who is he?” Tony asked, fidgeting with the repulsor-watch on his wrist. 

There was a pause, then:

“King Arthur Pendragon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any continuity errors, let me know. It's been a while since I wrote anything for this fic, so I might have forgotten some stuff. Thank you. <3


	5. Náð

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Náð: a holy intervention upon someone's behalf; assistance or help of a divine nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *flings update at you, then retreats*
> 
> Sorry for the wait! I'm absolute garbage!!!

There was a beat of silence as the Avengers processed what FRIDAY had said. 

“I’m sorry, did she just say King frickin’ Arthur?” asked Clint as he fiddled with one of his hearing aids. “Or is your tech acting up again, Stark?”

Tony shot the archer a look but didn’t rise to the bait, much to Clint’s disappointment. “Fri, care to run that by us one more time?” he asked his AI sweetly. “And Clint, stop messing with those. I’m not gonna replace them every time you go poking around or fiddling with the wires,” he snapped, getting a tongue stuck out at him for his efforts. 

“The individuals at the gate identify themselves as knights of Camelot, Boss. Their leader insists that his name is Arthur Pendragon.” FRIDAY sounded almost apologetic, and Tony inhaled sharply as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay. Fine. I assume you’ve been running background checks on them ever since they got here?” he asked. He heard the others around him start to protest, but he simply waved off their complaints about hacking and privacy violations and instead focused on the more pressing issue at hand. 

“Of course, Boss,” FRIDAY replied, sounding as though the very idea of her  _ not _ being that thorough was offensive. “None of them have shown up in any local databases. Permission to expand the search?” 

“Granted,” Tony grunted, then sunk into a nearby armchair with a heavy sigh. 

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Nat asked, perching herself on one of the arms of the chair. The rest of the team spread out across the other pieces of furniture in the living room, watching the mechanic expectantly. 

“That this wouldn’t be the weirdest thing to ever happen to us?” he joked, knowing it fell flat the moment it left his mouth. He sighed again as he sat up straight. “Honestly, the timing of all this is a bit too perfect. How could  _ they _ possibly know more about Thanos than  _ us _ ? And how could they know that we know about him?”

“You think it’s a trap,” Steve said, crossing his arms over his wide chest. 

“I think it’s  _ convenient  _ that these alleged mythical heroes appear out of the blue and want to help us. Nothing is ever that easy,” Tony fired back, feeling frustration well up inside of his gut. “It’s likely they’re spies for Thanos, wanting to get insider intel to report back to their boss.” 

“But what could they possibly get out of a deal with Thanos?” Wanda asked, doubtful. 

“Power? Money? A guaranteed place in his weird-ass future? Who knows,” Sam responded with a shrug. Tony snorted.

“Whatever they’ve been told they’ll get, I doubt they’ll ever actually get it. A guy like Thanos would get rid of them as soon as they had no more information to give him,” he mused, and the others nodded in agreement. 

“It is true that the powerful often dispose of the useful once they have outlived their usefulness,” Vision chimed in from beside Wanda. “It is done in order to ‘tie up loose ends’, as the saying goes. Having human informants would make information collection on Earth much easier than if he sent his own forces in their stead.”

Tony repressed a shudder, thinking back to Manhattan. “Yeah, I doubt us Earthlings would respond well to another alien invasion,” he muttered. Most of the room winced, confirming that he wasn’t the only one to remember their first fight together. 

“So what do we do about the guys at our front door?” Bruce asked, sitting on the recliner by the window. 

“FRIDAY? Find anything on them yet, girl?” Tony asked. 

“Nothing yet, Boss. No passports, no birth certificates, no government paperwork of any kind.”

Tony frowned, but T’Challa shrugged as if it was perfectly normal. “If they really are from Camelot, as they claim,” the king began, “Then it would make sense that there is no proof they exist. There was hardly a centralized government in their time, and only royal births were ever regularly recorded.”

Tony let out a long, deep sigh. “Alright. I guess we should at least go meet them, see why they’re actually here. So far, all we have is speculation. We shouldn’t condemn them just because our paranoia is telling us to. Fri? Let them in. Tell them we’ll meet them out by the front entrance.”

“Yes, Boss.” There was a pause as the message was relayed. “Arthur Pendragon would like to know if it is possible to stable their horses on the grounds while they visit.”

“Stable their-” Tony broke off and groaned, his head falling into his hands as muffled chuckles broke out around him. “Tell His Majesty that no, we don’t have  _ stables  _ here, but their horses can, I dunno, explore the lawns and graze or something.” 

“He says that is an acceptable arrangement,” FRIDAY replied, and Tony glared up at one of her cameras as he heard the amusement in her voice. 

“God, can this day get any weirder?” he grumbled. 

“Do you really want to find out?” Nat asked, teasing, and Tony was incredibly tempted to push her off her perch. 

“I’m just glad the kid isn’t getting involved in all this mess. Hopefully it’ll all get settled before he comes back next week,” Tony confessed, leaning back on the sofa with concern in his eyes. 

Steve’s expression softened when he saw the vulnerability on his friend’s face. “I’m sure it will be,” he said in an attempt to reassure him. “Hell, he’s gonna be so excited to be here when Thor arrives, I bet he’ll forget to even wonder  _ why _ Thor was gone for so long,” Steve speculated, and the mental image of Peter fanboying over Thor was enough to make Tony chuckle. 

“Too true, Spangles. Alright, let’s go outside and see who’s storming the castle,” he said, and Steve brightened as he and the rest of the team followed behind. 

“That’s a movie reference, right? I think I actually saw that one,” Cap grinned. 

“Whoa, who managed to talk you into seeing  _ Princess Bride _ ?” Clint asked, giving the soldier a playful and friendly shove, which was returned with a grin. “Was it Nat? I bet it was Nat. She loves that movie.” Clint then yelped as the woman herself suddenly appeared at his side and flicked his forehead with one of her perfectly-manicured nails. “What the hell, Nat?” Clint asked, pouting. 

“Don’t go spilling my secrets, birdbrain. You’ll make me look like I’m an actual human being,” she replied with a smirk, then poked him in the side for good measure, right where his kidney was. It made Clint squawk, and if not for Wanda separating the two of them with her magic, Tony was sure it was going to turn into an incredibly mature poke-fight. 

“Thank you, Wanda,” he said, and the witch sent him a smile as she set the assassins down on opposite sides of the group from each other. A wave of gratitude swept over him, and he was reminded of how much worse their situation could have been, had things not been worked out in the Siberian bunker. Even the thought of that place made Tony shiver. 

Thankfully they soon stepped out into the sunlight, and the warmth chased away all thoughts of the frozen place. 

Tony reached into his jacket and slipped on a pair of sunglasses. Bruce looked over and tilted his head. “Migraine, Tony?” he asked in a low whisper, knowing his late nights in the lab often caused Tony to develop such pains. Tony looked over and shook his head, giving his old friend a smile. 

“Not this time, thankfully. These are paired with FRIDAY. They’re sort of like a portable version of the display I’ve got in my suit. Right now I’m using them to track the heat signatures of approximately half a dozen men and their horses coming up the front drive,” he explained. Bruce looked on in shock. 

“Jesus, Tony, you’ve been busy while I was gone!” he said, then huffed a laugh. “No surprise there, though. You’ve always been the one to sacrifice sleep for inventing the next big thing.”

“Aww, Brucie, you  _ do _ care,” Tony cooed, and Bruce made a face, gently nudging the laughing inventor away. 

“I take it back. You’re the worst,” he grumbled. 

“Gentlemen,” Nat interrupted, clearing her throat. The two men looked properly chastised. “Wanda says our guests are almost here. You might want to act a bit more dignified if they’re who they say they are.”

“Say the one going around poking kidneys,” Tony grumbled, then leapt out of the way as Nat threatened him with one of her pointer fingers. 

“Don’t tempt me, Stark,” she warned with a grin. 

She was about to lunge at him when the sound of hoofbeats on gravel reached their ears. The team, Tony and Nat included, all snapped to attention, smoothing their clothes and making themselves look as presentable as possible. A tingle of anxiety fluttered in Tony’s stomach, although he had no idea why. Their guests were likely imposters; impressive ones, granted, but imposters nonetheless. So why was he so nervous about meeting them?

“I see them,” Steve breathed, sounding awed. Tony went to shoot him a confused look, but a glimmer of sunlight on metal in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned towards the source, then felt his mouth drop open in shock. 

At the front of the group was a literal knight in shining armor, sitting astride a gorgeous black destrier. Although he wore no crown, there was no doubt in Tony’s mind that this man was the one called Arthur. His posture, his confidence in the saddle, and the grace with which he led the others left no doubt regarding his position as their leader. The sunlight reflected off his golden hair, which hung with careless ease around his face. He was fairly young, but not young enough to have the roundness of boyhood still in his cheeks. A crimson cape fluttered behind him, pinned to his collar and stitched with the likeness of a dragon on the shoulder. All of the knights wore identical cloaks, and Tony thought for a wild moment that Doctor Strange would fit right in. 

The knights behind him were all close in age to their leader, and although they were marching two abreast, there was an air of relaxedness to them that Tony attributed to the brotherly camaraderie shared by all warriors. It was much unlike the strict military march he had expected. 

The one immediately behind and to the right of the leader was a ginger, curly-haired man, his pale face covered in small freckles and a handful of scars. His build was slimmer than Arthur’s, but not overly so. He seemed to be the oldest of the group, his cheeks and chin covered in close-cropped facial hair. There was an unmistakable air of kindness and gentleness about him, despite his status as a knight. 

The one beside him was another kind-faced man. He was free of any sort of beard, and unlike the ginger beside him, his dark hair was cut close to his head. His skin was dark and mostly unblemished, although as they got closer, Tony could see a handful of burn scars on his arms and hands that piqued his interest. They looked similar to the ones he had received when he built his first suit, back when all he had to work with was basic tools and a forge.

Behind them were two more young men. They both had dark brown hair and strong builds, and Tony was taken aback by how they seemed to draw the attention of the others surrounding them. The one seated behind the darker-skinned knight was grinning, not at all bothered by being somewhere new and foreign, and he said something that made the men around him laugh and roll their eyes. His companion, a man with olive skin and thick, wavy hair, reached across and lightly punched him on the arm, causing the other knight to cackle. He, too, had facial hair, though not as well-groomed as the man riding in front of him. His hair was also longer, swept back in an effortless quiff. 

Bringing up the rear was a man so tall and largely muscular that, for a brief moment, Tony thought he was Thor’s long-lost twin. Unlike the others, his chain mail had no sleeves, so those watching their approach got a clear look at his thick arms. Unlike Thor, though, this man had very short, brown hair, and he carried a sword on his belt rather than a hammer. He looked quite intimidating, and Tony knew exactly why he had been stationed at the back - anyone trying to sneak up on them would have to first go through a living wall of muscle. 

The horses made short work of the length of the driveway, and soon they were forced to come to a stop thanks to a few gentle tugs of the reins. Tony watched as the group dismounted with ease. Their leader, Arthur, looked like he was going to pass his reins off to someone, but faltered upon seeing that mysterious someone absent. A flicker of disappointment flashed over his face before it disappeared under a mask of cool indifference. 

_ Wonder what that was about _ , Tony thought, raising an eyebrow. He slid the sunglasses back into the pocket of his jacket, knowing FRIDAY would continue to run background checks on the knights in case they were just normal people. 

The blond let the reins drop, trusting his horse to not wander too far, and approached Tony. His chainmail rustled softly with each step, sending up a dappling of sunlight from its shine. There was a smile on his face that Tony was very familiar with; it was the same one he wore when addressing reporters and nosy civilians. Peter called it his “playing nice” smile, and Tony had to admit that, upon seeing it on another person’s face, he agreed with the name. 

Tony stepped forward and met the supposed king halfway, extending his hand. The other man nodded and grabbed his wrist rather than his hand, giving his arm a brief but firm shake with a leather-gloved hand before letting it fall back to his side. Tony barely had time to return the gesture. 

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us,” said the knight, his English accent coming through without restraint. “I understand how odd this whole situation must seem. I’m hoping my knights and I can answer whatever questions you and your companions may have for us.”

Tony nodded, his own expression neutral. “I’ll admit, we do have a lot of those,” he said, scratching idly at his goatee. “But I’d rather ask them in the comfort of a conference room, rather than standing on my feet for hours.”

Arthur chuckled, as did the other knights. “On that, we can agree. It’s been quite the journey for us to get here. Please, lead the way, Sir…?”

Behind him, Clint groaned at the honorific. “Tony. And I’m not some fancy noble boy,” he said quickly, causing the king to look confused. “I guess the best way to describe me is an inventor,” he explained. The blond’s expression cleared as understanding came over him. 

“A successful one, if the size of your residence is any indication,” he replied as Tony gestured for him and the knights to follow the heroes inside. 

“You could say that,” Tony agreed, leading them through the lobby and towards the main meeting room on the ground floor. “My father was an inventor as well, so I inherited a great deal of his successes. And his failures, too, of course, but I try to ignore those.”

Arthur snorted. “I’m much the same. My father was king before me, and his reign was not untroubled. His allies became my allies, and his enemies…” 

Tony nodded, an idea suddenly springing to mind. “Once we can confirm your identities and get our questions answered, I think you and one of our friends should have a chat.” He tossed a look over his shoulder to where T’Challa was. “I’ll warn you now, though: his little sister is probably going to try to prank you at some point.”

“I’m not unused to annoying sisters,” Arthur deadpanned. Behind them, a few of the knights chuckled. “My own sister often relieved her boredom in increasingly-clever and frustrating ways when we were young.”

“You say that as if she still doesn’t,” one of the knights - the one with red hair - added, and Arthur sighed. 

“Unfortunately true. You’d think she would have grown out of it by now,” he said fondly, shaking his head. 

“Well, sorry to say that Shuri isn’t the only prankster in our group. But you’ll get used to it, I’m sure,” Tony added as he pressed his palm against a digital scanner by the conference room door, which quickly slid open to allow the large group to gain admittance. As they filtered in and chose their seats around the sizable circular table in the center, Tony took in the fact that the knights, despite looking like they had stepped out of a portal directly from Camelot, were oddly at ease with the many different types of technology around them. He quirked an eyebrow at that and glanced over at Nat, knowing she must have caught onto it as well. 

Tony waited until they were all seated before he took his place, choosing to place himself between Rhodey and Steve. He remained standing, his arms braced against the glass surface of the table, at least for the time being. 

“Alright,” he said, raising his voice to get everyone’s attention. “First thing’s first - FRIDAY, did you find anything in any database about our guests?” he asked, keeping his eye on Arthur. 

“Still nothing, Boss. Their only recorded appearance was in my own system, when they showed up at the front gate. I’ve found no documentation in any government files regarding their identities. I can keep looking, but-”

“No, it’s alright, Fri,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Stop searching, but do keep an eye on any news reports that come out about them. Just in case,” he told Arthur, who nodded back. 

“I suppose now would be the time for us to introduce ourselves, right?” asked the long-haired man, who was reclined in his chair with his arms resting on his stomach. He sat with the Thor-like knight on his left and Clint on his right. At Tony’s hesitant nod, the knight grinned and sat up straight. “Excellent. Who goes first, Princess?” he asked, and Tony was shocked to see that he was addressing  _ King Arthur _ . 

Arthur shot the knight a half-hearted glower. “I’ll go, since apparently I’m the only one here who has any manners.” The other knights, plus a few of the Avengers, laughed quietly. “My name is Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot. And these,” he said with a long-suffering sigh, gesturing to the men at his left and right, “Are my knights.” He nodded to the man with red hair, who sat at his immediate right. “This is Sir Leon, my second.”

The indicated knight nodded to the Avengers, a polite smile on his face. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. We would not have come, had our situations not been so serious. If there is anything we can do to repay your kindness, please speak with me, and I will see it done.” Arthur clapped Leon on the back; a friendly gesture, as Leon gave him a much warmer smile than the one he had worn just moments before. 

“I am Sir Elyan,” the darker-skinned knight said from Leon’s other side, silently volunteering to continue where Leon left off. “I, too, thank you for your hospitality. I’m afraid I don’t know much about how technologies have changed since our time, but my father was a blacksmith, and he trained me in the craft before he passed. I’m quite good at repairing anything that might be broken. But I fear there is little use for such things now,” he said, his cheeks tinged pink. 

Tony’s eyes lit up. He’d seen the scars on his hands and arms when they first rode in, and he was delighted to know that they were, in fact, from working a forge. “You’d be surprised,” he said. “After you all get settled, why don’t you come down to my workshop? I’ll show you what sort of things I’ve been able to make with a bellows and anvil.”

Elyan, excited, smiled at Tony. “I would much appreciate it.” 

“Right. My turn, then?” asked the tallest of the bunch, whose voice was surprisingly soft and kind. After a nod from Arthur, who sat at his right, he continued. “Sir Percival, at your service,” he said. A few of the Avengers, those who had read the legends, sat up straighter, their interests piqued. “I’m no smith like Elyan, but I suppose if you’ve need for an extra pair of hands, then you need only ask,” he said with a modest shrug. 

The knight to his left gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze, then turned his attention to the rest of the group. “I’m Sir Gwaine, officially, but I’ve never really been much for titles. Isn’t that right, Princess?”

Arthur put his head in his hands and sighed. “Gwaine…” he warned, but the knight waved him off. 

“Like Percy said - if you lot need help with anything around here, then we’re your men. It’s been a while since any of us have been able to do any work at all, which I would normally be delighted about, but even  _ I _ get bored of a millennium of lazing about.”

“A miracle, if there ever was one,” Leon grumbled, then ducked as Gwaine threw a pen at his head. “Oi!” 

The last knight left sighed and shot Gwaine a sharp look. “Please don’t go breaking things before we can explain why we’re here,” he begged the man, who glanced back at him, looking a little sheepish. 

“Right. Sorry, mate. Go on, then.”

The knight turned back to the Avengers, his expression apologetic and warm. “Forgive my friend, please. He means no offense. This is just… how he is,” he explained, looking exasperated. 

Tony waved off the man’s apology. “No worries. I’ve got one just like him,” he said, gesturing to Clint, who was unfortunately seated right next to Gwaine. “We’re used to having an idiot or two here.”

“Gods bless you,” the last knight said, causing Tony to snort, amused. “Well. I’m Sir Lancelot, but you may call me Lance, should you so choose. And like my friends, I am at your disposal.” 

Tony nodded, then finally sat down in his seat. “I’d have our side do introductions, but there’s a lot of us here right now, and given the circumstances, I think it can wait. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Arthur said, taking in the dozen or so heroes who he’d hopefully get to know during their stay here. 

Nat leaned forwards, looking intently at each of the knights. “If you’re truly who you’re claiming to be,” she said, highly skeptical, “then how is it that you know of an alien threat that  _ we _ only just learned about? I’m assuming Thanos wasn’t around much in Camelot.”

“Ah, no, he wasn’t, although he wouldn’t have been too out of place among the things that we  _ did _ encounter,” Leon said with a small shrug. 

“It’s a bit of a difficult explanation,” Arthur said, grimacing. “And I still don’t fully understand it myself. From what I understand, after each of us died, our- our spirits, our souls, found their way to Avalon.” At the blank looks on the Avengers’ faces, he explained, “Avalon is a sort of afterlife. Time doesn’t behave like it’s supposed to, and people who have died before you are there to greet you. My- my mother-” Arthur breaks off, swallowing hard. “She was there. As was my father. Some of my knights, those who had died before me, were there too,” he said, nodding to Lance and Elyan. 

“So Avalon is, what, Heaven?” asked Tony, and the knights all chuckled. 

“Not if Uther is there. Sorry, Arthur,” Gwaine winced, but Arthur simply shook his head in amusement. 

“No, you’re right, Gwaine. If I learned anything during our time there, it’s that my father didn’t deserve the peaceful eternity that he received.”

“Bad blood?” asked Steve.

“More like a genocidal, egotistical tyrant,” grumbled Elyan. “He murdered my father just because he  _ thought  _ he was connected to sorcery. It broke my sister’s heart to lose him.”

“I’m guessing therapy wasn’t really a thing back then,” Sam said. Elyan snorted. 

“It’s barely a thing now, from what we were able to see,” he retorted, and Sam nodded in concession. 

“What else did you see?” Bruce asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand.

“Bits and pieces, mostly. Big historical events - the Crusades, the Black Death, colonisation of Africa, the East, and America, the World Wars, things of that nature,” Arthur explained. “Thanks to the magic of that place, we were able to keep our knowledge of languages updated too. It’s why we’re speaking modern English.”

“Didn’t even think of that,” Clint mumbled, impressed. 

“We almost thought we were going to return a few times, but Freya - the young woman acting as our link between Avalon and Earth - always told us that it wasn’t time yet. That, despite the plagues and wars and political upheavals, there was something bigger coming.”

“Thanos,” Wanda whispered with a shudder. Tony had to agree with that sentiment.

“Thanos,” Arthur nodded. He turned his attention to Tony. “We saw the alien invasion a few years back, too. We saw what was at stake then, saw what you did to save your people. It made sense that Freya had made us wait all this time, if that’s what we were going to be up against.”

“Ugly bastards. Almost as bad as that troll of a stepmother-”

“ _ Thank you,  _ Gwaine,” Arthur cut in, rubbing his temples. “Anyway. Most of our time in Avalon since then has been catching up on society’s progress and learning what we’d need to know in order to help, including Thanos’ movements and plans.”

At this, the Avengers all sat at rapt attention. “You’ve been able to spy on him from the afterlife?” Nat asked, unsure if she should be skeptical or impressed.

“In a way. Like I mentioned, we really only saw the big things. Him wiping out half the population of planets, for one.”

The room went silent, digesting that uplifting little tidbit of information. Tony felt a little sick. “Why on Earth would he do that?” he asked weakly. 

“Balance. He thinks there are too many people and not enough resources. His people went extinct because of it - he alone survived. And now he’s going to make sure no other planet falls victim to the same fate.”

“By killing billions of people?” Clint asked, outraged. 

“Never said his plan made any sense, mate,” Gwaine said, placing a hand on Clint’s shoulder to try to calm him down. 

“On about half the planets he ‘balanced’, the rest of the people ended up dying anyways, since they couldn’t deal with suddenly having half their workforce. Crops went unharvested, people starved, and the population died,” Lance explained, looking as disturbed by it all as Tony felt. 

“It’s why we’re here,” Arthur said, taking the reins of the conversation again. “We’ve seen what he’s capable of doing. These Infinity Stones that he’s gathering, they’d make it so that he can do that to the entire universe with a click of his fingers. Trillions of lives, gone in a second.”

“Yeah, I can see why Avalon would want you to return for that,” Steve muttered, pale. 

“And you think we have any chance of stopping him?” Bruce asked. 

“I think you’re the  _ only _ chance we’ve got of stopping him,” Arthur said solemnly. He then sighed, running his fingers through his blond hair. “Especially if we can find our missing member.”

“Another knight?” asked Sam.

Arthur smirked. “Not exactly. Bit too skinny to ever wield a sword, but he doesn’t need weapons. Never has.” He scooted forward and steepled his fingers under his chin, looking Tony in the eyes.

“Any idea where I can find a man named Merlin?” 


End file.
